My winter crops are devastated.
First it was the flooding from all that rain.
Then came the hurricane-force winds, knocking tender plants right on their sides.
It wasn't until the rain stopped that I could go outside to take a look. I've been uprooted!
This is a broccoli plant, lying flat with its roots exposed. (Yes, I could do a little weeding, but much of that debris floated or blew in. Leave me alone; I'm grieving. Yeah, that's it. Widow's weeds. Ha.)
I can understand a towering, top-heavy tree with shallow roots tipping over in these conditions. But a harmless little backyard kitchen-garden plant? And this wasn't the only one. The cauliflower plants took it on the chin, too.
I figure I'm due some compensation. And maybe even some under-the-table payoffs if I promise to continue not to grow cotton.
Not gonna happen, of course.
So, next-best proposal: Farm Aid.
Joan Baez, come on up. Neil Young, too. You guys don't live too far away. If Willie Nelson and John Mellencamp want to come too and croon to my soggy farm, so much the better.
I'll be the one at the front door, selling tickets.